


Being Oneself

by Shaderose



Category: Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: And about liking men, Bisexual Tommy Shephard, Brothers, Coming Out, Drabble, Gen, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Internalized Homophobia, Just tommy asking his gay little bro about being gay, Just two twins being brothers, Mentions of homophobic parents in the past, Pansexual Tommy Shephard, Sexuality, Sexuality Crisis, Thats it thats the fic skfjjf, Twins, Whatever label suits your fancy lmao, While being very Tommy about it, brotherly bickering, or - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 23:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30063321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaderose/pseuds/Shaderose
Summary: Once Billy has finally settled down, which took way way too long in Tommy's opinion, he feels the heat of his stare on his face, and crinkles his nose in a grimace, bracing himself for what he knows Billy is gonna ask."Are you okay, Tommy?"Yeeup, right on the fucking nose.
Relationships: Billy Kaplan & Tommy Shepherd
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Being Oneself

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi!  
> I wrote the first part of this in one sitting, and the rest of it in multiple sittings afterwards, and I still don't really like the ending? But it is what it is  
> Also, there's a lot more swearing in this than I meant for there to be? Whoops  
> Also also, I always feel like I write Tommy very ooc because I tend to write him with ~emotions~, so sorry if my characterization of him is off.
> 
> Anyways, enough of me blabbering lmao  
> Hope you all enjoy! 💗

Tommy tosses the ball into the air again, watching it slowly fall as he lays in his bed.

Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down-

The ball smacks into his face it slips through his grasp, and a loud snort escapes from a few feet away from him.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." Tommy sighs as snickers fill the room, and he squints over at Billy, sat in his computer chair in the corner of the room, the back of his hand covering his mouth as the bubbling sounds fall from his upturned lips. His words just make him laugh harder, which makes Tommy groan and plop his head back onto the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing at his forehead. There's probably gonna be a bruise there now. Goddamn it.

Once Billy has _finally_ settled down, which took way _way_ too long in Tommy's opinion, he feels the heat of his stare on his face, and crinkles his nose in a grimace, bracing himself for what he knows Billy is gonna ask.

"Are you okay, Tommy?"

Yeeup, right on the fucking nose.

"I'm just peachy," Tommy spits back, a little too bitterly at someone who's done nothing wrong, but he can't help it. He doesn't care right now, to be completely honest. His mind feels sluggish while also racing at a mile a minute, feeling like he's wading through mud with his superspeed, and he can't- wrap his head around it. He hates this, this feeling of not understanding, this feeling of being _stupid_. He knows he is- stupid, that is- but he also can't help but want to _know_ things, or at least understand them, hates feeling god awful, hates proving his stupid fucking parents right, that he can't get shit, cause he _can_ , but when it comes to feelings and emotions and stupid shit like that-

This is such bullshit.

Billy's face puckered up like he swallowed a lemon, before he rolled his eyes and turned back towards the screen, playing whatever game Teddy had gotten him into his week, or doing homework, Tommy couldn't tell from here. Nor did he really care right now. Just _ask him._

 _'But how, brain?'_ Tommy screams internally as he throws the ball back up a little too hard, wincing as it almost hits the cieling. _'How do you expect me to say this?'_

"Howdidyouknowyouweregay?"

Well, that's one way to do it. This time, the ball _does_ hit the ceiling, leaving a faint dent that Tommy barely notices over the heart in his throat, thumping heavily as he notices Billy straighten ( _ha_ ) in the corner of his eye, and turn around expectantly.

" _What?_ "

Tommy shifts, shoulders raising to his ears in a way he plays off as a shrug, turning his face towards the wall and, more importantly, _away from Billy_ , grumbling, "You heard me."

"No, no, I _really_ didn't." He sounds way too innocent, and Tommy groans into the pillow by his head, hearing the light thumping of the ball now bouncing against the carpet.

"You're really gonna make me repeat it, aren't you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Billy gleams, and Tommy screams internally.

Fucking brothers. Fucking _this one_ in particular, why did destiny or fate or Wanda or- or _whoever,_ choose _them_ to be brothers? Why not literally _anyone else?_ "I hate you," He sighs, before leaning back and glaring heavily at the boy across the room from him, grinning ear to ear with a twinkle in his eye, looking like the cat that got the fucking creme. _Goddamn it._

He pauses, then, because part of him doesn't even want to ask him anymore. Part of him wants to be petty as shit and just storm off somewhere for a few hours to make Billy feel bad.

As much as the idea is tempting, Tommy is a dick, not an asshole. Unlike Billy.

He sighs, again, gritted through his teeth, before repeating, long and slow, "How did you know you were gay?"

Billy blinks. Once. Twice. And then that infuriating wrinkle in-between his brows grows as he utters, seemingly bewildered at the (in Tommy's opinion) very straightforward question, "Cause I didn't like girls?"

" _Fuck this,_ " Tommy groans again, loudly, turning around completely, fingers twitching by his head and toes curling as he itches to book it out of there. "Whatever, nevermind."

"No, no, wait-" He hears the chair rolling closer, and considering genuinely screaming into the pillow. Maybe throwing it at him would be better. Yeaahh, that's a better mental image. "I didn't- I mean, I was being _honest_ , that was definitely part of it- but, I just... I always knew-"

"You were different?" Tommy snorts, glaring at the sheets he's picking at with his finger nail. "That you _weren't like the other boys_ , and then you met a certain green bean with a name starting in _T_ , and suddenly, fireworks, sunshine, rainbows." He flairs his hands out, sneering into nothing.

He can feel Billy's glare on the back of his neck. "One, I had crushes on other boys before Teddy, you know, and two, why did you ask if you were just gonna be a bitch about it?"

"I'm _always_ a bitch, Kaplan," Tommy snarks, but its with less heat, more of an exhausted exhale than anything. "Figured you'd be used to it by now."

There's a moment of silence, the only sounds being Tommy's heavier breathing, the pulse still rushing in his ears, and the continued scratching of the sheet, the material getting more and more frayed the more he picks and plucks at it. Then, there's gentle fingers pressing into his skin, a hand grasping at his shoulder softly. Soft soft, Billy was always soft, the softness to Tommy's sharp edges and rough exterior. They always were opposites, black and white, yin and yang.

"Tommy," Even his _voice_ was gentle, careful, a quiet soothing lullaby that makes his shoulders relax just slightly. "Do you... think you like boys?" Tommy just closes his eyes and swallows, shrugging. Of course he'd go straight to the point, it's not like Tommy's been running this situation through his head over and over for weeks now, thinking they'd dance around the point until Tommy finally got the chance to blurt it out. But its not like Tommy's ever been able to put a pin on the personality of one Billy Kaplan. He's as erratic as he is gentle, as spontaneous as Tommy is to be honest, just in _emotion_ instead of _actions._ Another pause, another breath, and then- "You know it's okay if you do, right?"

"Yeah, of course," He scoffs, but it sounds out hollow, even to him. "Duh." Billy just hums, and rubs a thumb into his shoulder blade, easing at the tense muscles beneath the skin until Tommy deflates, voice just below a whisper. "I just-" He shrugs again, swallowing down the upset when Billy's hand drops away. "I can't get my parents words out of my head. They hated the fact that I was a mutant, growing up, and thats was bad enough, but," He makes his voice deeper as he mocks, "'at least I wasn't a-' well, you know." He swallows again, this time around the lump in the form of a slur growing in his throat. "And now I'm just... I dunno, proving them right, somehow. Proving that I deserved getting- tossed into a jail cell, pulled apart and prodded at until I didn't even know who the fuck I was anymore." His gaze drops, his eyelids drooping, the back of his eyes burning, voice hoarse as he admits, "I _still_ don't know who I am."

There's a moment, a pause. "You're Tommy Shephard. Speed. My brother." And then, softer, "You're _you,_ Tommy. That's all anyone could ever ask of you. To be _yourself,_ whoever you may be. Whoever you might like."

Initially, Tommy snorts bitterly in response, choosing wisely not to vocalize the self loathing thoughts that brim at the edge of his mind, that simmer at the tip of his tongue. But then, the words sink in, absorbing into his skin and rolling over and over in his mind, and a line grows in between his brows as they furrow. "...But, I shouldn't-"

"Why?" Billy presses gently, yet firmly, voice a soothing lullaby to the swarm of thoughts buzzing in his brain. "Why shouldn't you?" He hears a creak, as if Billy's sitting back in his chair. "Tommy, your parents were a _ssholes_. They treated you like shit, threw you away, and instilled things in you that _aren't true-_ "

"I _know_ that, though, Billy." Tommy flops onto his back again, but he refuses to look towards him, blinking up at the ceiling as his eyes burn, as he clears his throat of the sudden hoarseness in it. "I know they were bad, I know, I _know,_ but-" He flails his hands, gritting his teeth as frustration bubbles up, before he huffs it all out in one big sigh, his arms collapsing back down to his sides as he goes as limp as a ragdoll, a tear leaking down his cheek and into his ear as he murmurs, devoid of emotion. "But she was still my _mom._ "

The silence is filled with only their breathing, mismatched and, for Tommy, shuttering, similar yet oh so different. Billy breaks it with a faint, low sigh of his own, full of an ache that Tommy can't wrap his head around. "I'm not as good as my mom at this," He warns lightly, before a hand settles onto his arm again, a thumb rubbing at his pulse. " _But_... as much as they were your parents-" And then, he pauses again, as if thinking through his words. "...You don't have to live like that anymore, Tom. You don't have to be _afraid_ anymore."

And there's something about that sentence, something about the way it was spoken, the tone, the inclination, the sliver of pure empathy and sympathy running through it that makes his brain settle out, joining together onto one solid thought of _abort, abort, abort-_

Before he even realizes, he's sitting up on the other side of the bed, putting a distance between the two of them and spitting out rapidly, wiping at his cheek with one hand, "Areyouhungry? I'mhungry,I'mgonna go get some pizza, doyouwantany?"

But, just before he can rush off without Billy's response, running away like he always, always, always does, he catches Billy's eye. The faint panic, the deep seeded sadness, the guilt and resignation at pushing him away again, and it makes him freeze in the doorway, faced away from the boy, because _'no, no, you didn't push me away, I pushed you away, you could never-'_

He looks back, over his shoulder, and flickers between Billy's eyes, hoping, hoping he can understand everything through the look alone. _'You didn't do anything wrong, I'm just a mess, I'm sorry,'_ and, most importantly, _'I'll be back, I promise.'_

Billy sends him a small smile, and Tommy's shoulders unhunch. "Just cheese, please."

Tommy nods even if Billy can't see it, having pushed back towards his computer and whatever he's doing on it. Between one click of the keyboard and the next, he's gone in a rush of wind, a tornado of fear, upset and a weird, twisted sense of comfort, of _hope._

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on tumblr! @shadedrose01 :)


End file.
